Goodnight, Mole
by Mizuni-no-neko
Summary: Christophe has worked himself into a state of sheer exhaustion. Can Gregory get the stubborn Mole to go to bed?


I'm really on a roll with these Chris/Greg oneshots :3

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Christophe yawned again and rubbed his eyes, trying to focus on the blueprints of the building they were trying to break into. They only had three days until the mission and he had to have them completely memorized by then. He ignored the fact that he'd already been up for a week straight planning and memorizing. That wasn't important, just the success of the mission was.

He took another swig of coffee and sighed, the plans blurring before his eyes. The next thing he knew he was picking his head up off of the desk an hour later. He looked around blearily, slightly confused. "Deed I fall asleep?" He asked to the seemingly empty room.

"Yes, dear. You were out for about an hour. Pity it wasn't longer, you need your rest." Came the reply. He whipped around to the origin of the voice, a slim blonde leaning casually against the wall. He bared his teeth and growled.

"What are you doing 'ere, Gregory?" He asked, eyes narrowing. The real question was: How did he get here without Christophe noticing?

"Elementary, my dear Mole." Gregory said with a small chuckle. "You've worked yourself so hard that you wouldn't have noticed if an entire herd of elephants came tromping through here."

Christophe opened his mouth to protest, but it came out as a hearty yawn.

"For your insane and disgusting love of dirt, Christophe, go to _bed_!" Gregory said, whacking the mercenary upside the head.

"But I 'ave to memorize ze blue preents, go over ze meesion plan again, sharpen my daggers, clean ze blood off of my shovel from my last meesion, call Kyle to make sure we 'ave all ze access co-" He stopped abruptly as his rant was interrupted by a pair of soft lips on his own.

"Bed. Mole. Now." Gregory growled, placing one hand on his hip and pointing the other toward the bed. Christophe scowled at him and crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head like a stubborn child.

"Don't make me drag you to bed." The blonde threatened, tapping his foot. "Go to bed, Christophe. You can do all those things in the morning."

"Make me." The Frenchman growled, not budging. Like hell he was going to give into some blonde British faggot.

Gregory's eyes flashed mischievously before he put on a downtrodden and innocent face. "Oh, all right. I guess I'll just have to pleasure myself tonight, seeing as how my lover is too busy for me." He sighed, dragging himself over to the bed and slowly undressing. He smirked towards the wall, his back facing Christophe, as he revealed inch after creamy white inch of his flawless skin in tantalizingly slow movements.

Needless to say, he had his lover's attention now. Christophe darted his tongue out over his suddenly dry lips, eyes darkening from the brown of the dirt he was so famous of digging in to an almost blackish color.

Once Gregory was fully naked he turned back towards the mercenary, the light of the lamp adding a soft glow to his aristocratic complexion. He smiled softly at the Mole and fell gracefully onto the bed, landing in a provocative position with his legs spread and one arm resting on his forehead. He looked like a fallen angel posing for a photo shoot.

Christophe raked his eyes up and down his angel's body, bulge growing in his pants. He couldn't take his eyes of the beautiful boy naked and aroused in his bed and he didn't know how much longer he could hold on before taking him, making him scream and beg for more.

Then the touching began.

The petit blonde gasped softly as he ran his own hand down his pale chest, stopping to play with both nipples before slipping lower. He brushed the back of his fingers over sensitive stomach muscles, causing him to shudder. "Oh, Christophe! Please, oh god, don't tease!" He begged, sliding his hand lower over the insides of his thighs.

Christophe groaned under his breath, watching the boy intently. He felt his own hand stray to his clothed erection as the blonde finally grasped his own in a delicate hand, pumping himself slowly.

"Oh Christophe, please more, I need more." He moaned, arching into his own hand. The arm that had been thrown over his face came up to grasp the headboard as the other moved faster over the throbbing member in his hand. Gregory let out tiny mewls and moans as if giving himself over to his lover. "Christophe, please! Just fuck me!" He begged, spreading his thighs wide so that the Frenchman sitting at the desk across the room could see everything.

Christophe smirked, let his little toy play with himself a bit more. He would have his fun and teach the blonde a lesson at the same time. Before long Gregory would be begging for Christophe's cock in earnest, but the Mole was not so easily defeated.

Gregory flipped himself over onto his hands and knees, slicking three of his fingers with lube from the bedside table and pushing one past the ring of muscles and into his entrance. He keened lowly, throwing his head back and panting. He began pumping the finger, adding another and then another until he was eagerly pushing back onto them. His face was flushed a bright red and his blue eyes were hazy and half-lidded with want.

"Chris, please! These fingers aren't enough. Oh god I need you!" He begged, calling out his lover's name as he hit his prostate. His arm wobbled out from beneath him, his chest falling to the bed with his ass up in the air presented to the other boy.

Christophe pretended to think about it, crossing his legs and leaning back with a smirk. "Je ne sais pas, tu as été tres mauvais, mon amour." He replied casually as the blonde fucked himself, desperate for more pleasure.

"Oh yes! I've been a bad, bad boy! Punish me with your cock, Christophe!" He begged, trying to hit that spot harder.

Christophe smirked and got up from his place on the chair, stripping down and freeing his throbbing cock. "As you weesh, mon coeur." He said as he removed Gregory's hand and thrust straight into his lover's prostate, earning an arousing scream of pleasure from the other boy.

"There, right there!" He cried, pushing back on Christophe's cock eagerly with every powerful thrust like a wanton whore. "Yes, oh, mnghh." He gasped as he was fucked mercilessly into the mattress. He scrambled at the bed for purchase, fingers digging into the sheets as he screamed and begged for more. "Harder, faster, deeper!" He begged, nearly losing it as his partner complied.

Christophe could feel his orgasm fast approaching, the signs of Gregory's apparent as well. He grasped his lover's cock and pumped it in time with every thrust, earning more cries of pleasure.

Gregory couldn't take it anymore, it was all just too much. He was on fire from the inside out and his vision was turning white. With one last cry of complete bliss he drenched the Frenchman's hand and the sheets with his seed, constricting around his lover in the midst of his passion. "Oh god yes, Christophe!" He cried, panting harshly and still pushing back onto the other.

With a few more thrusts into the spasming body below him, Christophe joined the other in coital ecstasy. He stifled his feral growl by biting harshly into the other's shoulder, thrusting blindly through their mutual pleasure until the last spurt of cum had left the both of them.

He pulled out and flipped Gregory over, kissing him soundly and pulling him close. With a moan Gregory tangled his fingers in the mud colored hair of his lover, kissing back with equal passion as the both fell back to the bed, entangled.

When the kiss finally broke and they both let their bodies relax, it really hit home for Christophe how much time he had been wasting going over the plans again and again. Not only was he in a state of complete physical and mental exhaustion, but he had also been ignoring Gregory and his needs.

"Desole, Gregory. I was so caught up in the meesion I forgot a-" He was once again cut off by a pair of soft, though noticeably more kiss-bruised, lips.

"Just go to bed, love. You can apologize in the morning." He said with a smile, cuddling into the broad chest of his love.

Ze Mole just nodded and closed his eyes, wrapping his arms securely around Gregory before allowing himself the mush needed rest.

Gregory looked up at the peaceful face of the sleeping mercenary, so used to wearing a smirk or a sneer or a scowl. He was almost…cute when he slept, but not innocent, oh no, never innocent. Not his Christophe, not his Mole.

He thought over the apology he had interrupted and laughed at the irony of telling him to apologize in the morning. He highly doubted that a rested and sensible Mole would apologize at all, but he would see that look Christophe would give him in the morning and it would be enough.

Gregory smiled fondly and kissed Christophe's chest before following the Frenchman into a peaceful slumber.

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Yay! My first lemon since that long ass hiatus I took! And it wasn't actually half bad, I thought. Though of course, as per usual, my dialougue during the actual intercourse is a bit…lacking. I'm not exactly that experienced in such matters, my duckies, so bear with me!


End file.
